


Like Chocomint Ice Cream

by izzyisozaki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cold Stone Creamery AU, College Hockey, College Student Katsuki Yuuri, Dancing, Equestrian, Horseback Riding, M/M, Set in 2011, Some Plot, Underage Drinking, Victor has finished university, so everyone is eighteen or over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyisozaki/pseuds/izzyisozaki
Summary: Cold StoneAU. Victor, a professional horseback rider from New York, decides to finally take a break from competition and the excess he is used to for a shared flat and a part-time job in downtown Detroit.Yūri, a college student and athlete who should be on a diet during hockey season, finds himself going to the ice cream parlor down the street every other day now.





	1. A World Away

**Author's Note:**

> Not that anything can justify my reasons for writing this, but I _am_ trying to develop them before the eventual smut.
> 
> Once again a big thanks to [Chuppi](https://twitter.com/suppuuri) for helping me out!

Victor had been working at Cold Stone Creamery for over two months now, and had to admit that it had been one of the best decisions of his life (yes, even if it meant enduring his roommate, an ego-driven hockey player, whose endless rambling about himself and string of puck bunny girlfriends made him crave for the power of invisibility). He would serve cakes and ice cream to all sorts of people, young and old, and get to see their faces light up, even if just for a moment. In the evenings it could get a bit hectic, but the mornings went by with relative ease… Not to mention he had access to free ice cream after his shifts. At first he had almost no idea what he was doing, but soon he mastered the skills of being a crew member on the floor, performing duties that went from cash to serving, prepping ingredients and cleaning up.

Those who knew back home figured he had ulterior motives for working a humble, part-time job, because Victor’s godfather, a retired competitive horseback rider, was incredibly rich, and Victor even had a sports scholarship to cover his tuition. In truth, he was simply seeking a change from the stuffy life of the Hamptons, spent mostly playing polo and going to beach parties. Of course having a lavish lifestyle appealed to him, but by the last year of university he felt drained, tired of the shallowness of most of his acquaintances, of feigning smiles and laughter.

He knew the moment to get away came when, after the Grand Prix, his favorite mare for competing was forced to retire. Despite his wins, he missed horseback riding for the mere sake of it, and felt that hundreds of miles away, in Detroit, maybe he would be able to do just that, at least until he was ready to take part in equestrian events again.

In the meantime, he would have a simple job and live a simple life. There would be no one to put on a show for besides the clients (who always complimented his singing), and no one sucking up to him for favors nor trying to gain from his friendship and fame.

It was not all this, however wonderful, that made getting away from Long Island and working at a Cold Stone in Detroit one of the best decisions of his life. The reason was _him_ , a boy whose name he had been trying to get for weeks, until he finally did thanks to his roommate, who just so happened to be on the same sports team as him (he had never been so happy about having accepted an invitation from his roommate before). When he saw the Japanese left winger take off his helmet, hair slicked back and face unadorned, it took Victor a moment to realize it was him, the elusive boy who came every other day to the ice cream parlor he worked at. Before the only thing he had figured was that the young man was a college student like his roommate, having noticed the same school logo on their sweatshirts.

Katsuki Yūri, as Victor learned his name was, never spoke or made eye contact more than necessary, but he always left a tip when Victor happened to serve him, meaning he would then have to sing, often with the other employees, as dictated by Cold Stone protocol. Despite smiling and enquiring him about his day whenever Victor took his order, he seemed quiet and timid, so finding out he was out there on the ice, dangling past defense and scoring the most goals for his team, was quite a surprise.

Now that his roommate – whose full name Victor could never remember – was his closest connection to the intriguing Japanese boy, he began accepting all of his invitations, and eventually, it paid off. One evening, after the team had won a game by a large margin, their captain decided to throw a party at his and his roommate's house, who just so happened to be Katsuki. The latter still did not know he was JJ’s roommate, so he was eagerly looking forward to the encounter, their first ever outside of Cold Stone, hoping it would be the occasion to get the other to warm up to him. He dressed as sexy as possible for casual dress, and even _asked_ JJ to fill him in about the latest in ice hockey, so he could more easily initiate or go along with a conversation.

Most of the team was already there when they arrived, and JJ introduced him to the captain, Phichit Chulanont, whom he still had not met. The short man was cordial, looking at him curiously as they shook hands, as if he was trying to figure him out. Victor was too excited to care though, because soon he spotted the other’s roommate. He nudged JJ to introduce him, which the latter promptly complied to by calling out Katsuki’s name.

“Yūri! I have someone I want you to meet.”

The other barely put down his punch when he turned and saw Victor, brown eyes as wide as saucers and barely registering JJ, who was walking towards him, telling him to come meet his roommate. Once he managed to blink he moved forward, stretching out his hand in greeting when they met each other halfway across the room.

“…Hi,” he uttered with a shy smile.

“Hi.” Victor smiled back tenfold, already basking in the other’s presence.

“Victor comes from New York and doesn’t really know anyone yet, so I brought him along. He’s an athlete too.”

Victor continued to smile as JJ began to tell him what he already knew about Yūri, until the unmistakable tune of JJ’s cellphone went off.

“Ah, Isabella must be here. Excuse me guys! Can’t make a lady wait.” He grinned as he made his way to the door, leaving the two alone together.

Victor thanked all the forces of the universe, immediately taking advantage of the situation to invite Yūri to a beer in the living room, where a few of the other guests were already seated.

“Unfortunately I still have two years before I can drink…legally, but I can join you with some juice,” he quipped before grabbing his cup.

Victor took a beer from the ice cooler and they sat down on the couch next to one of his teammates, who was on his phone, and began talking comfortably after realizing they both studied business, hardly noticing the others as they came and went from the living room. Occasionally members of the team or their friends would come in and propose to play a game, enforcing penalties on those who lost. Being the night of miracles that it was, Yūri was soon down to his underwear by playing strip poker when Phichit took out his iPhone to play some party mixes on the home stereo, the first song being SMH’s “Save The World.” Barely buttoning his shirt and yanking his jeans back on, Yūri pulled Victor off the couch, and in that moment Victor swore he saw the other man transform.

Everything became hazy and heated, and soon their hips were pressed together as they swayed to the music, Victor swearing he must be in heaven when Yūri dipped him almost to the ground, hand cupping his face. He knew a bit about dancing, having tried all sorts of things to stay fit for riding, but he was clearly out of Yūri’s league when it came to versatility. Breaking out into the steps of “Party Rock Anthem” was one thing, but knowing the choreography to every dance hit of the last years was another, and Victor often just stopped and watched until the other held out his hand again, a dance Victor could never refuse.

After half-an-hour a love song came on, and breathing a bit heavily, they eased off the pace, entering a slow dance. Victor stared at the color of Yūri’s lips for a few moments before turning to the side, their chests touching lightly. He could not believe they were spending the evening together like this, talking and dancing as if they had done it many times before. The first time he noticed Yūri had been at work while singing for a customer, catching the other staring intently, ice cream melting all over his hand. Yūri turned away abruptly once he realized Victor had stopped singing and was staring right back at him, reaching for a napkin and heading out of the store. After a few days he turned up again, and had been returning ever since… He must have really liked the ice cream, Victor thought.

The song ended and they agreed to take a break, Yūri having another round of punch before going to the bathroom. Victor waited next to the table drinking only water, not needing to enhance the dizziness he was already experiencing by being so close to the younger man, especially now that the latter had dropped his former inhibitions.

When the other came back, they left the hall and went back to the living room, the guy Victor recognized the team’s goaltender sound asleep in the armchair adjacent to the couch, which happened to be free. With one hand on his chest he found himself backing into it, knees giving in as he plopped down onto one of the cushions, Yūri now straddling his lap.

Everything began to move incredibly quickly once Yūri’s lips touched his neck, and he could not help but gasp in shock as the other began to slowly nibble the skin there, licking and sucking hungrily between intervals. Victor’s hands trembled, the pads of his fingers only grazing the back of Yūri’s shirt, aching to touch more.

As much as he was enjoying this, this was the opposite of what he had expected – having the other hitting on him halfway through the evening was one thing, but this seemed rather…unusual.

Spotting Yūri’s cup of punch on the coffee table, he reached for it, not even bothering to pry the other off of him as he brought it to his mouth and took a sip. As soon as he tasted it, he knew.

The punch was mixed with vodka.

“Vic…tor.”

Yūri had detached his mouth from his neck, pausing to look at what he was doing before running a hand through Victor's hair, immediately grabbing back his attention. As much as he wanted to continue this, it would have to be when the other was sober.

“I should get going now. I have a morning shift,” Victor let out, not sounding all too convinced himself.

The other merely stared at him, as if he had said something entirely irrelevant.

“Stay.” 

Victor’s lips parted slightly, not sure he understood what Yūri was getting at.

“You should come stay here. There’s a lot of space…”

As much as Victor loved the sound of that, it had to be the musings of a drunk man.

“You already have a roommate,” he pointed out.

“You can stay with JJ…but not with me?”

“Wh…what– no! I don’t mean that! I would…with you…”

Yūri then quieted him with the softest smile, and before Victor could react the former drew closer and closer, till a kiss was planted on his forehead, so sweet his heart could have burst from emotion in his chest.

Yūri pulled back, hands on Victor's shoulders coming down to rest on his midsection. Stunned, Victor’s mouth refused to form the words he wanted to say, mental faculties held captive by the other’s gaze. Without breaking eye contact, Yūri brought his hands to Victor’s collar and began slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt, setting off the alarm in his head. Somebody could walk in any moment now (not that it really bothered him) but he did not know what Yūri really wanted. Somehow managing to not get lost in the latter’s eyes, which he could tell were a more reddish shade of brown up close, he grabbed Yūri’s waist and swiftly leaned him onto the couch, mind reeling as the younger man thrust his hands into his shirt, as if dying to touch him. The warmth of the other’s hands penetrated Victor’s skin, making it even harder to hold back.

“Let me go get you a glass of water.”

The disappointment he saw cross Yūri’s face almost killed him, but he slipped away before the other could hold him back, heading quickly for the kitchen as he buttoned his shirt back up.

When he got there he found a few people, including Phichit, so before Victor got the glass of water he gestured subtly at the young Thai man, who eventually walked over from where he was standing by the counter.

“Let me guess…this is about Yūri?”

“Yes. He’s…drunk.”

“You don’t say.” Phichit smiled slyly and Victor knew.

“Wait…you knew about the punch he was drinking?” he asked in shock.

“Everyone knew that batch had alcohol, even Yūri. There’s a note by it.”

“What…”

“He just doesn't admit to it openly. You know.” Phichit smirked while taking a sip of his drink.

“But he…”

“He got carried away. Happens.”

“It…happens?”

Phichit nearly gagged on his sip, putting the glass down.

“Not in that sense. He never hits on anyone. He just strips and challenges people to dance offs.”

“Oh. Alright,” Victor replied, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice. 

“Anyway, don't worry. I’ll make sure he makes it to his room and takes out his eye contacts before passing out,” Phichit reassured, the tone of his voice all too teasing.

Victor smiled tentatively and filled a glass of water, thanking Phichit and bidding him and his friends goodnight before heading back to the living room. He found Yūri dozing off on the couch, his head on the armrest, opening his eyes once he noticed Victor had kneeled by his side.

"Here…drink this. Phichit will help you to your room.”

The other did not seem the least pleased, but made no protest as he took the water, drinking it all before plopping the glass onto the floor.

As Victor moved to pick it up, Yūri grabbed the collar of his dress shirt, tugging lightly.

“Don’t leave.”

“I…I’ll leave you my number. You can contact me whenever you like.”

Victor pulled away to take the notepad near the phone, writing his name, number, and his work hours, addressing it to Yūri. Getting his things from the coat hanger, he pulled on his jacket and walked back to the couch, draping his black sweater over Yūri.

“In any case, you can easily find me,” he added softly, leaning down to squeeze Yūri’s hand.

He stepped back before the other shut his eyes, turning to leave.

“This…is mine now.”

Victor laughed. “Yes, please keep it. Goodnight, Yūri.”

He left the room without looking back, feeling it would only be harder to leave if he did.

 

That night it took him forever to fall asleep, mind flooded with images of everything he wished he could have done with Yūri, who he prayed would call or come find him, either at work or via JJ. He could not recall being this attracted to someone before, and it was honestly starting to consume him. Those round, gentle eyes…he could stare at them forever.

He rolled over and tried to clear his mind, thinking about horse rides, beaches, eating ice cream, _anything_ that was not the other’s amazing body, soft and taut in all the right places. What really had him captivated, however, was the passion in Yūri’s every touch, the skin of his chest still tingling from the contact of earlier, making him wonder if he could seriously get off to the thought of the other’s hands on him alone. Frustrated, he tried visualizing the unsexiest thing he could think off, and recalled one morning when JJ was stretching in the middle of the lounge, donned in nothing but his red and white briefs while listening to the same song he used as a ringtone. It was a rather effective image, and fortunately it was not long before he was finally saved by sleep.


	2. Longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was meant to get straight to the point, yet here I am dragging it out even further.
> 
> Tested on [Chuppi](https://twitter.com/suppuuri).

They were dancing.

Yūri’s arm was locked firmly around the taller man’s waist, their opposite hands interlocked. With them there were a good number of people in Phichit’s and his apartment, swaying to the array of songs playing on the stereo system, most of the illumination coming from the other side of the room, where he was twirling the other man now. Yūri then moved to wrap his arms around the other’s shoulders, whose hands came to Yūri’s waist to pull him closer.

_Thick eyelashes and hooded eyes._

Yūri had had a number of occasions to observe him, but before that night never from so up close. All those glances he had stolen seemed superfluous as he stared up at his face, now only inches away. Nothing was stopping him, and the other was looking back at no one else but him, too.

_Cyan irises with blue shadows._

Whatever music was playing, it had totally slipped Yūri’s mind, the other man guiding their dance while he tried not to dissolve in a crystalline sea.

_Straight eyebrows and silky ash blond hair._

The other man’s gaze cast down, head turning slightly to the side after lingering on his face.

_A medium tapered haircut with side bangs._

He did not want to interrupt his examination of the other man, he thought, barely stopping his hand from caressing the other man’s hair, but there was no way he would let tonight end before running his fingers through it. 

_Fair skin and shiny lips._

The other’s warmth and musky cologne was what had him drunk now, as well as restless. Was it permissible for someone to smell so good while looking so ridiculously perfect?

_A sensual mouth with a pouty upper lip._

What would he give to have it pressed to his skin, right now, and his finger started to circle the other’s nape, his desire to touch him becoming impossible to hide.

_A gorgeous, breathtaking smile._

It was like a dream, and he never wanted to wake up, smiling back and leaning into his embrace.

“Rise and shine!” Phichit chirped, pulling open the curtains of Yūri’s room. 

All Yūri wanted to do was rise and _die_ , because said dream would never come true and the realization only made the beginning of his day worse. He slowly opened his eyes, instinctively reaching for his glasses before the physical reminder of the alcohol he drank last night hit.

He rubbed between his eyes before putting on his glasses, noticing something that was not his blanket lying next him. “What’s this…?” Yūri looked down at a black sweater that was crumpled near his arm, as if he had hugged it all night.

“Oh. You wouldn't let it go when I dragged you to your room last night. I’m guessing he left it with you.”

“What? Who…?”

Phichit crossed his arms and gave him a knowing look, as if he was waiting for the exact moment for Yūri’s lucidity to kick in.

_Holy shit._

“No way…”

“No way you shamelessly hit on JJ’s roommate?” Phichit laughed, his smile far too bright this morning. “Don't worry though, the sentiment was clearly mutual.”

Yūri heard the edifice of his mind collapsing, or was just someone throwing a bag of glass bottles into the bin downstairs?

 _It’s_ his _?_

“Impossible…he’s…it was just a dream,” Yūri’s voice barely croaked out.

“He looks a lot like someone I’ve seen, actually…” Phichit observed.

“Victor?”

“So you do remember!”

Yūri had learned his name by going to the ice cream parlor and eyeing his name tag, but it was slowly coming back to him, however dream-like it had felt.

Phichit began pacing next to Yūri’s bed, clearly pondering who Victor reminded him of.

“Maybe he’s a model? What’s his job again? No, wait. Don’t tell me…ash blond, blue eyes, athletic physique…it’s the guy from the ice cream parlor you’ve been raving about!”

Having reached his epiphany, he turned to Yūri with his thick eyebrows arched in amazement, soon breaking into a devilish smile.

“So you finally made your move on the ice cream man?”

Yūri grabbed his pillow and threw it at Phichit, unable to take his teasing any longer.

“He’s graduated in business and comes from Long Island! Who knows what he’s doing here, working at Cold Stone…”

“Oh. Didn't JJ say he was an athlete too?”

Yūri thought for a moment, realizing he barely paid attention to what JJ had said once he had seen Victor.

“Maybe I can look him up?” Phichit proposed. “What was his last name?”

“He didn't mention what he was an athlete in…and I rather not find out that way.”

“So you know his last name too,” Phichit teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ugh, stop it…I just overheard it at the ice cream parlor a few times.”

“You go _that_ often!?”

Yūri fell back onto the bed, embarrassed yet unable to deny it.

“You’re really in deep if you’re blowing your diet like that,” he noted.

Yūri pulled the covers over his head, hating how Phichit had to say things he would not even admit to himself aloud.

“Well I’d let you continue dreaming about last night, but I made breakfast, so get up before it gets cold.” He patted the covers and left the room.

His mind was, in fact, flooded with memories of last night. After the dance they had…

_Oh my God._

His mind was screaming profanities as he suddenly remembered: _his hands_...he had unbuttoned Victor’s shirt. And when Victor pushed him on the couch…he had fondled his chest without hesitation.

He sank deeper into the covers. Just the memory of touching Victor’s chest made him feel so overwhelmed; it was like being impreg–God what was he thinking. How could he face Victor again?

“Yūri! Get out here _now_.”

He did not care about breakfast, but he had to admit that the excitement in Phichit’s voice roused his curiosity. After a few moments he came out from under the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to slip on his pantofles.

Walking out of his room and down the hall, he entered the area where they had been dancing last night, which was pretty much an extension of the entry before one turned and met the dining table near the kitchen. He spotted Phichit, who was looking down at a notepad and typing eagerly into his phone, breakfast untouched.

“What’s that?” he asked immediately, walking up to the table.

“Oh, nothing. Just the note left by your dream man.” Phichit smirked as he scrolled his phone.

“ _What_.”

Phichit brushed his hair to the left side of his face, and recited in a mock Victor voice: “‘Yūri, I had a _great_ time. Feel free to contact me _whenever_ you want.’”

He jolted forward to grab it, his body practically moving on its own.

“You’re lying!”

Yet he clearly saw Victor’s full name, number, and work hours, with a text addressed to him on the notepad. And he would be lying if he said the words Phichit had stressed were not written with a slight emphasis.

“This…this note is forged!”

“By who? None of our friends write in such fancy cursive, Yūri. Just accept it – the ice cream man wants you to contact him,” Phichit stated sharply, face dropping the smirk. “Why don't you just go see him after work? He even circled when he’s free…”

Yūri’s head was spinning – he would never even make it out of the house in this state.

Phichit shook his head, as if he could read his mind. “Spring has arrived sooner than expected, so let’s eat and get you prepared!

 

Victor eyed the clock, tapping his fingers impatiently. He wanted to check his phone, but knew it would be useless anyway.

His hand slipped into his pocket all the same, before he pulled it back.

He was really hopeless.

After living the drunk Katsuki experience Victor was dying to see him even more now, but he had to be sure the other was interested first. He would not do anything. Just wait.

He could call JJ to ask for Yūri’s number.

…How ridiculous. _He_ was ridiculous.

His shift was not even over yet. Surely he could survive a day before trying to do that?

He tried distracting himself by restocking on cups, barely noticing when someone came through the door. Good thing he would be done soon; he was in no sing-song mood.

Looking up distractedly, the words “What can I get you?” had already left his mouth when he realized who it was.

“Yūri,” he said immediately, stunned.

“Hello, Victor…”

Taking a few seconds to recover from the shock, he almost knocked over the stack of cups before speaking again.

“…It’s lovely to see you. Do you want anything?”

 _Please want me,_ please _._

“Are…you free for dinner later?” The pitch of Yūri’s voice sounded a bit higher than usual, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world to him. He could feel the sides of his face tugging his mouth into what must have been his most dopey smile yet, and for a moment he found himself tongue-tied before he managed to speak.

“Of course…would you like to go somewhere before? I finish in ten minutes.” He must have said that in a single breath, he thought to himself, trying to get himself to calm down.

“Yes, I’d love to…I’ll wait outside.”

Before Victor could reply Yūri was already hastily headed towards the door, and he decided perhaps it was for the best as he regained his composure. He could already hear his female colleagues giggling in a corner, and after he finished arranging the cups he began untying his apron, without even needing his replacement to signal their presence before he hurried towards them.

Once it was settled he rushed past his co-workers to the bathroom, rinsing his face before throwing on his jacket and wrapping his scarf around his neck. Checking himself in the mirror one last time, he waited for his heartbeat to steady before he headed to the exit for employees. As soon as he opened that door, he would find Yūri there, and he did not want to be grinning like an idiot, at least.

 

He accepted. He accepted his invitation. Victor was going to have dinner with him of all people. _Dinner_. Where could Yūri take him? He wanted to invite him to the Japanese restaurant run by his family, but in the end he had rushed out of the parlour, having barely said anything.

While Victor had been talking Yūri had noticed a red mark…no, a _hickie_ on his neck. It was only partially visible, but it was enough to remind Yūri of what he had done last night.

How did Victor leave him his contact details after being subjected to his drunk antics? He just wanted to drink enough to not feel anxious, but he underestimated how out of it he would be around Victor, not feeling the effects of the alcohol until he had already drunk a lot.

He tried to keep the memory from resurfacing, but it was no use, and before his face burst up in flames in front of the other man, he made a run for the door. The air was cold against his face and he closed his eyes, focusing on what he would say next, trying to ignore the flashbacks from last night.

After ten, long minutes he heard a door open next to him, and turning he saw Victor, gaze already too much for him to hold. He had a dark topcoat that matched his pants, and a grey and black sweater with a triangular pattern, covered in part by his elegant black scarf. Yūri had noticed Victor’s taste in dress was really smart, as well as never too extravagant style-wise, so he really wanted to see Victor in different types of clothing. Maybe if he did not blow this he could end up seeing Victor on other occasions…

“We should go to a nice place for dinner,” he spoke without thinking.

“Do you have somewhere in mind?” he said cheerfully, smiling from ear to ear.

He was not ready for this level of exposure to Victor’s smile.

“Uhm…do you like Japanese?”

“I love Japanese.”

Victor’s tone had a sensual edge, and Yūri forgot every other enquiry he was going to make just like that.

“O…kay. I know a place. I’ll call to make a reservation.”

Internally his excitement skyrocketed, because they could eat at an affordable place with a relaxed environment that was still first rate, and he took out his phone.

“ああ、お母さん…”

He did not have time to explain but he knew his mother would understand that if he was calling to reserve, it was because he was coming with someone special or to celebrate something, usually in relation to ice hockey and the team. In fact…had he ever gone on anything that could qualify as a date? There was always another person and it never went anywhere with how he would evade what almost always felt like unwanted attention. With Victor, however, everything felt different. If last night was any indication, all Yūri wanted was his attention. There was something about the other man that just set Yūri alight. His voice, his smile…Yūri could tell there was passion in everything the man did. He first noticed that when Victor interacted with clients, at the ice cream parlour, eyes and mouth smiling both at the same time, his kind and upbeat voice never wavering. At first he seemed aloof, but as soon as eye contact was made with someone his face would brighten, as if he had just seen something wonderful.

It made Yūri feel at ease, until he was overcome with another feeling.

Victor was Yūri’s opposite in every way. He exuded confidence and sex appeal, and seemed to carry himself effortlessly no matter what he did. Even in one of the things Yūri had some competence in – dance – Victor excelled. He hoped to learn more about the latter, especially now that they were perfectly sober, but he also feared Victor would end up being even more out of his league.

While Yūri was still on the phone he stole a glance at Victor, who was putting on his gloves. Everything about him right now radiated openness and warmth, and Yūri could feel a knot forming in his throat. He really wanted this to work out.

He bid goodbye to his mother and turned back Victor as they began walking up the street, wanting to hear the other man’s voice again.

“I made the reservation at the restaurant. It’s just two stops of the people mover from here. Do you want me to pick you up, or to meet there?”

Victor lived with JJ, whose apartment he knew for a fact was not far from here.

“As you like, Yūri. I honestly could stay out if it meant more time with you.”

The directness of the statement blindsided him, and he found himself fumbling for words, heart fluttering in his chest.

“D-Do you want to go for a walk at Lafayette Greens before it closes?”

“That would be great.”

They began to head in the direction of a small, pleasant green area in the middle of the city, which had a organic vegetable and fruit garden, though most of it was put to bed in winter. It had been built just recently on the site of a demolished building, and was a much welcome change to the urban setting.

It was getting rather chilly, but he was fine in his parka. Only his hands were a bit cold, his pockets already occupied by his wallet, phone, and house keys. Victor, on the other hand, seemed dressed a bit light in comparison, but he had a feeling there was a reason for that.

“Victor, are you sure you aren't cold?”

“Oh, not at all, actually. I suppose I’m accustomed.”

Yūri smiled. “Could it be from wrestling bears in the snow?”

Victor laughed aloud in mirth, and Yūri’s mouth almost dropped, because he looked even more beautiful. 

“From winter swimming, perhaps. I have wrestled a bear cub when I was a child, though. I guess that's no surprise since I’m Russian?”

“It…what,” he stared in amazement.

“I’m joking, Yūri!” He burst into a fit of laughter this time, putting a hand on Yūri’s shoulder as they came to a halt on the sidewalk.

“I wouldn't put it past you!” Yūri stammered.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Victor gradually regained his composure, looking at Yūri with a playful expression.

“Really?”

Yūri avoided Victor’s gaze, already combusting from Victor’s hand on his shoulder.

“You keep surprising me, so…”

The hand on his shoulder tightened slightly before slipping away, Victor smiling at him softly as they started walking again.

“So do you.”

How…how was he supposed to cope with this? Victor would not stop making his mind reel with his words, and he knew he was done for when he felt Victor’s gloved hand suddenly wrap around his.

“You sure _you_ aren't cold? Your hands are all red.”

He proceeded to stick Yūri’s hand into the pocket of his coat, squeezing it in the process. Yūri was glad his enjoyment was outrunning his household embarrassment, because it was _really_ warm.

“T-Thank you…”

Victor hummed in response, and Yūri was already putty in his fingers, the warmth seeping through the leather of Victor’s glove into his skin.

They continued to walk like that until they reached the gate of the urban garden, when Victor spoke again.

“You should give me the other hand now,” he said smilingly, rubbing the one he already had in his pocket.

“N-No need to worry!”

“My other hand feels cold too, though!” Victor’s response had a tinge of dramatic, and Yūri could not resist.

“Okay, give it to me.”

Yūri changed sides to take Victor’s hand and, punctually, Victor put it in his pocket, squeezing it in his. They stepped into the garden, and somewhere along the way, Yūri brought his other hand back to Victor’s warmth, slipping it under his arm. They were side by side, Yūri practically clinging to Victor, yet he could not stop. Victor felt so warm and would not ease his hold on Yūri’s hand.

There were many rows of raised garden beds, and they started to go down each one. The plants were artfully arranged, and eventually they stopped in front of some November flowers.

“Ah, _kiku_ … In Japan they are a symbol of the Imperial family. I can never remember their name in English.”

“ _Khrizantema_? In Europe you wouldn't see them outside of cemeteries, I think.”

“Eh? I guess because they grow in autumn… In Japan they celebrate life, though.”

“My grandmother always made beautiful bread shaped like the corolla…add filling to it and you have ‘chrysanthemum pie.’”

“Is it typical?” Yūri asked, eager to hear Victor talk like that more.

“I think the recipe is Georgian. She liked doing different things. Her pelmeni were my favorite.” Victor spoke with a soft look on his face, and Yūri could not take his eyes off him now despite the flowers.

“…Aren't those like dumplings? I think I’ve heard of them before. There’s a Russian restaurant near that of my family’s, but it only opened recently, so I haven't gone yet.”

“Is that where we’re going, by any chance?” Victor enquired.

“Oh right, I forgot to mention that…” Yūri looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed that Victor knew he was going to see his family.

“I can’t wait! Let’s head there as soon as it opens,” he urged.

“O-Okay…”

They stopped whenever something came to mind while walking around the garden, and the minutes soon became an hour, and the park was going to close.

“Should we go get a coffee? I think my resistance to the cold is breaking.”

The tip of Victor’s nose was red, and his ears were too, and Yūri could only nod in affirmation, words failing him.

He never felt like this before.

They headed to a café that was five minutes away. At that hour it was half empty, and they went upstairs to sit down at one of the small, wood-framed tables along the glass wall, view overlooking the street as twilight approached. Victor’s hands were now bare as he clasped his cup of coffee and glanced at Yūri, who was sipping his tea.

“Sorry to bring it up suddenly, but…do you remember most of what happened last night?”

Yūri had prepared himself for any questions about what went on at the party, and wanted to clear it up too.

“I think so, yes. I’m sorry for suddenly doing and saying those things…” 

His eyes closed as he squeezed his cup, arms now resting on the table as he tried not to shake with how mortified he was. He should have gotten it out of the way earlier by bringing it up himself. His apology fell flat like this, and that was not what Victor deserved.

He opened his eyes at the touch of Victor’s hands circling his, soothing him as he was suddenly pulled out of the fog of his head.

“I wasn't the least uncomfortable. Only surprised…and then worried you would regret something later.”

Yūri stared at the cup of tea and their hands, heart in his mouth.

“I’m really relieved you still wished to contact me,” Victor confessed, “I’ve wanted to talk to you since a while.”

Yūri could hardly believe his ears, and met Victor’s gaze, wishing to finally voice his feelings too.

“It’s me who should be relieved…I had nothing but a good time with you.” He stuttered in the middle of the sentence and cast his eyes down again, but brought himself to continue. “At first I thought it had all been a dream…and was embarrassed once I remembered it all more clearly, but I…”

He felt Victor’s hands tighten around his, and he looked back up, glasses lowering slightly.

“…was really happy, too.”

Victor’s expression as he finished speaking was unreadable, and Yūri could feel his face getting hotter as the other man sat there quietly, lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something, hands still enveloping Yūri’s in their warmth.

“You’re incredible, Yūri,” Victor said finally, breaking into a smile, making Yūri’s jaw almost drop in confused amazement.

Victor then slowly brought two fingers to the bridge of Yūri’s glasses, pushing them up before pulling his hands back to take a sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving Yūri’s.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he stated suddenly after swallowing, standing up from his chair. “We can drink our cups on our way there.”

Yūri had no idea what was going on, merely nodding as he let go of his cup to get up from the chair. After zipping up his jacket and grabbing it again, he followed Victor downstairs without any questions.

 

There was something Victor had not expected while going out with Yūri.

First of all, the time they spent together seemed to cast everything under a new light, especially in regards to Yūri’s behavior. He had sensed the younger man’s nervousness on a good number of occasions, despite not fully understanding the thought process behind it. From what Victor gathered so far, Yūri lacked confidence, despite having a rather…impulsive nature, where he could voice or do whatever crossed his mind. He just needed a little push and the time to adapt to situations.

For example when Yūri played hockey, it was evident he entered a different state of mind, leaving his tendency to overthink behind. JJ mentioned the latter was often on the bench during important matches, however, making it hard to win as easily.

It was an interesting contrast, and the more Yūri revealed about himself the more Victor felt drawn in a way he could not explain. Perhaps with the right setting, Yūri could open up even further, and right now Victor really wanted that.

They had been walking in the direction of the riverfront as soon as they left the coffee shop, taking a good ten minutes to reach the surprise destination.

“A family friend owns the company that occupies most of this building, so I can go to the rooftop whenever I want. I usually come right before sunrise, though.”

There was a calm expression on Yūri’s face, but by the way he said “oh” Victor could tell the former was rather intrigued or expectant. They then walked to where the guardian was seated, who immediately recognized Victor and directed them to the elevators. He could feel his excitement spike now that they were completely alone, and brought his cup to his lips, finishing the last of his decaffeinated coffee.

Once the doors opened and they stepped out of the elevator he eyed the hallway for a trash bin, finding one right next to a small vending machine to toss his cup. Yūri downed his tea pretty quickly while they were walking outside, so his hands were already free, fidgeting slightly at his sides. They went past the still-life paintings on the white walls as Victor stuck his hand in his jacket to take out his keys, leading Yūri up a flight of stairs as he drew out the one he needed to access the terrace.

After he finally opened the door he held it open for Yūri, who passed through quickly before turning back to him, eyes gleaming.

Victor smiled, and accompanied him to the side where the sun was now setting, the silhouettes of buildings dark against the horizon. 

“I love views from high up,” he said as he leaned against the border, orange and red blending together across the sky as strokes of bright yellow colored the clouds, filtering the escaping sunrays.

He noticed Yūri’s hands were now clenching against the edge of the border, as if reacting to what he had said.

“…Me too.”

His voice was steady though a bit tense, and Victor knew he would need to set the mood some more, looking down as the wind blew his hair over and out of his face.

“On this side of the roof you can't see the water, but the skyline still reminds me a bit of home.”

Detroit River was not New York Bay, and Hart Plaza on the other side was certainly no Palace Square, but the sky tinged of beautiful colors all the same, and it was what he liked to see every so and so morning.

“Views usually feel nostalgic to me…especially those of the ocean.”

Yūri’s voice was low and Victor noticed the shift in his tone while speaking, as well as in his own heartbeat.

“Do you long for something…?”

The silence after his question to Yūri was a bit heavy, but he was soon distracted by how close the latter actually was, red fingers of his clutched hands peeking from the sleeves of his jacket, mere inches from Victor’s gloved hand.

“Perhaps.”

Yūri did not elaborate, but Victor was happy he did not seem to mind the question, sounding pensive.

“You don’t have to answer, but can I ask you something personal, Victor?”

“Yes?” he replied almost in a whisper.

“Why did you leave home to come here?”

Yūri posed the question head-on, yet for some reason Victor was not surprised, and he turned his body as he faced Yūri.

“Sometimes…you just need to set out on a journey?”

“Yeah, but the goal? It’s not much of a journey otherwise…”

Victor felt himself being backed into a corner, and knew he did not fully get why either, though he had plenty of things he wanted to get away from: “I’m not sure,” he therefore admitted. “Have you ever wanted to just leave?”

He could tell Yūri was mulling over something, his shoulders slouching slightly as his gaze cast down to one of the urban structures below. After a few moments, however, he looked back up, eyes lingering on the darkening sunset.

“Yes, to go back to the home of my early childhood…though nothing but the ocean is awaiting me there; we moved to the US after the family business collapsed, almost a decade ago.”

Despite how different that was, the sense of disconnection struck Victor as familiar, and he wondered if maybe that was why Yūri had asked him about why he had left.

“Maybe something made you feel you and your family belonged there. You could still find something like that,” he said tentatively.

Although he had brought Yūri here in hopes of having a heart-to-heart, the direction of the conversation was not one where he could intrude on the other’s feelings by bringing up his own – he could read an atmosphere to that extent, at least. He thought about it for a few more moments, realizing there was something he could still propose.

“If you’d like, we could go on a short trip, sometime. With horses.”

“Horses?” Yūri turned his head, dazed.

“I studied business, but horseback riding is my profession…though I’m taking a break from competing now.”

“So that’s what you’re an athlete in…amazing,” he let out.

“Do you like riding?” Victor asked hopefully.

“I’ve only rode once, in Japan,” Yūri paused, and laughed before saying: “…a pony.”

Victor grinned broadly. He appreciated all types of horses, and knew those native to Japan were small.

“I can teach you!” he assured him.

“B-But how can I go on a trip? I’m not really used to horses…”

“Don't worry, we can go together on the same horse if you prefer.”

The other stared at him, looking incredulous.

“Really?”

Victor smiled softly, really not resisting this time to cover Yūri’s hand, sprawled on the border of the wall.

“Of course, it will be fun.”

“B-But why…would you invite me?”

Victor then saw it again, that dwindling confidence. Without hesitation – or better – without thinking, he brought his right hand to Yūri’s chin, caressing his bottom lip with his thumb.

“You’re not aware of it?”

Yūri stared up at him with his gentle, brown eyes, a mildly flustered expression on his face as Victor leaned in and awaited his reply.

“Of…what?” Yūri breathed out after Victor’s thumb slid down the middle of his lip, Victor’s other fingers still under his chin.

“How you make me feel when you look at me, thinking I won’t notice.”

Victor was dying to kiss him, and could see the semblance of desire in Yūri’s eyes, but he did not want to be hasty. Yūri was four years his junior, and Victor would follow the pace getting to know him warranted. He smiled and stepped back, letting go of Yūri’s hand as well. It was nearly 5:30 pm now; the clouds above the horizon had taken a blue hue.

“Shall we get going to your family’s restaurant? I think I’m getting a bit hungry.” He smirked as he leaned back against the wall.

The look on Yūri’s flushed face was priceless, and he regretted not kissing him, but the latter gave him a shy smile, nodding, and everything felt right.


End file.
